The Ego and the Id
by Cliscia
Summary: He wasn't insane, because they were not voices, they were real, and they were always watching. After all, sanity is relative. Professor Chaos x Majorine x Butters


**So I officially don't have a computer, which means I can't draw digitally, or upload any of my sketches at all since the library doesn't have a scanner. You heard that right. Library. I thought that not being able to draw would mean that I'd have a lot more time to write fanfics, but all it means is that people stare at my screen all day and I can't fucking do anything asldfjklasdjf. So enjoy this fic, and remember to vote for what you want me to write next, on my profile. Also, I wrote a short little essay thing on how Butters/Chaos/Marjorine would be Super-Ego/Id/Ego on my tumblr, if you're interested.  
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Despite what they told him, Butters didn't think he was insane. It was all fun and okay to have imaginary friends as a child, but when his legs grew and his voice deepened and the fourth grade became twelfth grade, those imaginary friends were called '_schizophrenia'. _But it was true, Butters wasn't insane, because he had looked up what he had been diagnosed with, and it'd said that schizophrenia was marked by the mind distorting reality and creating delusional thoughts. He had smiled with triumph when he'd presented the evidence of his sanity to his doctors, because he wasn't making anything up, there was no delusion, _it was all real._

It hadn't actually started as imaginary friends, it had been different personas. Unable to cope with his parents' disappointment, bullying at school, and gender issues, Butters had made two completely new people for himself to become. With Professor Chaos, he could do anything and say anything. He was free from restraint, free from being _Butters._ Because Butters was quiet and stuttered and fumbled with his words and didn't do anything right and liked to dress in girls' clothes. Then came Marjorine, a solution to his worries over gender, confident and overtly feminine because she was a _girl. _He hadn't given her a name as quickly as he'd done Professor Chaos, but remembered the day that he was able to dress as a girl in public and was accepted as a female, and the name they'd given him then just _fit._

Professor Chaos and Marjorine. Two completely different personalities, and completely different from himself as well. They were his coping mechanisms. Whenever he couldn't take the stress, whenever he felt himself close to a breaking point, he let them take over. They were everything that Butters was not, and what Butters hoped to be. Because while Butters pretended to be Professor Chaos, or dressed up and pretended to be Marjorine, he couldn't shake the truth from himself that _they were not him. _

It had been around the beginning of September during his sophomore year that he had looked over and saw himself sitting calmly next to him. Except it wasn't him. The boy looked like him, yes, shared his same face and body, but the way he carried himself and the clothes that he wore were different from himself. Butters had looked at him, shocked, frozen in place. A hallucination? But the boy didn't move, and when he rubbed his eyes, he was still sitting there. He had always known that Professor Chaos was different, was _real_, but he'd never imagined seeing him in the flesh. But when Butters moved to speak, stuttered only the first few syllables, Professor Chaos smirked and vanished.

A few months went by and the summer became fall. He had been folding clothes, angry, upset, and crying from the words his parents had said to him, when he turned back to see himself standing next to his desk. But just as Professor Chaos had been, it was not truly himself. Same face, same clothes, but a different body. Breasts, hips. Marjorine looked back at him, face void of any expression. Butters' heart had hammered in his chest. But the second he moved forward to question her, she vanished as quickly as her predecessor had.

For a while, he did think he was insane, and told his parents. It had been a horrible mistake. They had rushed him to the hospital where he was forced to confide in a psychiatrist that had told him 'don't worry, we're not going to punish you'. But they had, and when he told him about how there were two other people inside him, he was instituted into the hospital. For a whole miserable month, all Butters had done was sit on the white, white bed and try to convince himself that he wasn't insane. Because imagining things was a lot better than the alternative.

He had been let out of the mental ward a few weeks into December, early enough that he could enjoy his winter break in full. His parents had been happy to have him back, convinced that he was cured, just as he'd told the doctors. Butters was relieved as well, glad to have his room back and to be able to do as he pleased, along with seeing Cartman and the others. But when he'd been throwing snowballs at them one day, and bent down behind his snow fort to make another one, the feminine hand that'd covered his own suddenly and the doppelganger face that followed, sent him straight back into the hospital.

They started touch him, then, but always silent. Butters had spent another week in the white room, and they had watched him. Professor Chaos and Marjorine had sat next to him on his bed while he rocked back and forth, muttering to himself under his breath, their hands on his shoulders.

'_I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane, I am not insane_'

'I'm perfectly sane, doctor, look.'

And two years later he had handed the wrinkled old man the sheet of paper that offered proof to his sanity. Butters hadn't been institutionalized for little over a year, but still had regular checkups to deal with his _schizophrenia. _After the last time he'd been locked up, they had decided he wasn't a threat to himself or others, and let him go to school and live like a normal human. A normal human who just happened to have a disease.

His doctor said nothing when he'd handed him the paper he'd printed out. Butters waited, staring intensely at his face while his eyes darted back and forth rapidly, reading what he'd been given. When his wizened face tilted to the side, he looked up at him and frowned.

"Leopold-" Butters didn't like that name, it made him feel like he was in trouble, "I thought you said that you only saw your creations."

"I do see them!" His eyes widened and he began to wring his hands nervously, tapping his knuckles together every so often. "I do, that's why! I see them, Mr. Johnson, they're real, s-shucks I'm not schizophrenic, I-I think you just have bad security… They keep gettin in…"

The old man sighed, weary. "Leopold, you told me that you understood that they were imaginary. I thought we were getting better. Do we have to have another stay, to make you realize that you're just playing games?"

"N-no!" Butters objected a little too quickly. His pulse quickened and he wrung his hands harder, beginning to sweat. "No games! Mr. Johnson, I-I know I said that and all, but I'm telling the truth! You have to believe me, t-they're real! W-Why just this mornin I was brushin my teeth and Marjorine was next to me and-"

His rambling momentarily stopped when he saw his doctor reach over for a form that he recognized as the paper that would readmit him back into the hospital. Desperate to be believed, Butters slammed his hands down onto the man's desk.

"L-Listen to me! I'm not lyin, you know I wouldn't lie! Lyin is bad and I'm not bad, I try to be a good p-person and- _stop!"_ Butters began to get hysterical as he saw Mr. Johnson write his name down for the space that said _Applicant's Full Name Here:. _When he wouldn't stop writing, Butters panicked and lunged forward to grab onto the front of his crisp white coat. "Stop! Stop Mr. Johnson, you're makin a mistake! I-I'm not crazy! They're followin me, I'm not makin it up, they're real, t-they're real! I don't want to g-go back here! Why won't you understand!"

He shook him, furiously, desperate for him to understand, to just look into his eyes and see the truth that lay within him. The doctor, however, saw his desperation as an act of violence and recoiled, his eyes wide as he pried Butters off and reached for the telephone. He didn't make a call, only pressed one big, red button. Seeing this, Butters sobbed and scrambled for the door, tripping slightly.

The moment Butters reached out for the door knob, it opened and he stumbled backwards. Four or five people dressed in all white grabbed ahold of him. He screamed and thrashed, grabbing at them to try and pull them off. "I'm not insane! I'm not, I'm not! S-Someone listen to me, s-some one help me! Help me, h-help me!" But they paid him no mind, and he was forcibly removed from the room.

"Hopefully this will be just a small relapse, there's no reason to be frightened, Leopold, we'll still work to help you get better," said Mr. Johnson as he watched the security drag him down the hall.

Although he'd heard him, Butters continued to screech. The hands on him were unrelenting and they hurt as they dragged him down the hallway. Curious people popped their heads out from their rooms and a few passing lobbies to watch the blonde teenager scream. Screams were not unusual in the North Park mental ward, and Butters' plight was ultimately ignored.

Butters was pulled into an empty room void of anything apart from a cold table in the middle that had straps hanging from the sides. He thrashed, having spent enough time in the hospital that he knew what the room was for. His eyes watered as he was forced down onto the table. Kicking did absolutely nothing, and his legs were strapped down first. The belts were tightened a little too tight, and he could feel his limbs becoming numb and losing circulation as he was strapped down.

"P-Please stop! I'm not dangerous, I'm not lyin! I-I'm not _insane!_" His chest rose and fell quickly as he began to hyperventilate.

He was ultimately ignored, and shuddered and moved his head to the side when he felt one of the men roll his sleeve up. He had never gone through this before. Never before had he been classified as dangerous. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and he breathed so fast that he thought he would pass out as a cold cotton swab was placed on the inside of his arm. The alcohol made him feel vulnerable. He was at a loss, unable to defend himself at all.

"Stop, s-stop…" But it was hopeless, and shook as he saw a woman return with the syringe. She tapped it and he shuddered.

They offered no words of encouragement as they held down his arm just in case, and the woman administered the drug. He could feel his skin being pierced even without watching. The needle was an intrusion in his fleshy body. It pierced through his flesh, through muscle and down into a vein where the cold liquid filled his blood stream.

Almost immediately his thrashing stopped, and they let go of him. His breathing slowed, and he rolled his head back to the side. Butters lay still, only slightly aware that the people in all white had left to leave him, once again, alone. For a while, all he listened to was the sound of his own breathing. He felt incredibly calm. His mind was hazy, but he could still tell that he was not completely alone.

Two people watched him from their spots next to the door. He was aware of them, as always, but did not acknowledge them in any way. They must have followed him out of the doctor's room and down the hallway. He had seen him in Mr. Johnson's office. They had stood behind the old man, and looked over his shoulder as he wrote down Butters' information to reinstitutionalize him. Butters didn't understand why the people in white did not see them, as they must have slipped through the door through all the commotion, to watch him be sedated. But they never saw. No one ever saw them, except for Butters.

He was determined to not give them the time of day. They were the reason of all his troubles, the reason that he was forcibly strapped down and drugged against his will. They were supposed to have helped him, but they didn't. Instead, the moment Butters had stopped playing pretend, his characters had materialized only to _watch_ him.

All they ever did was watch. Even when he was in a classroom full of people, they watched him. Professor Chaos would stand next to the door, silent, and stare at him while his teacher droned on. No one ever seemed to notice when Marjorine stood from her place next to the window, and moved to sit in the teacher's chair, watching him. Watching, always watching. They watched his every move, stared as he rocked back in forth in his room, desperate to make them leave.

It wasn't often that they touched him, but every so often he would wake up to one of them sitting next to him on his bed, and they would reach out to put a hand on his face. It was so real, so palpable. He could feel Marjorine's smooth skin, and Professor Chaos's large hands on his cheek when they did this. And through it all, he never understood what they wanted from him.

Butters twitched slightly when he felt the restraint around his left leg loosen. He continued to stare at the wall, but knew that it was Professor Chaos. Marjorine would have been much more gentle. One by one, the straps were loosened, and the metal of the buckles clanked when they fell and hit the floor.

"Go away." His voice was slightly raspy and his throat hurt.

Marjorine's face came into his vision as she turned his head to look straight up at her. Her hair fell around his face, making the light that filtered through very yellow. She looked down at him and smiled softly. Butters frowned and stared intensely back into her eyes, looking for any sort of _emotion_ there.

"What do you want." The words were flat. He had asked them many times before, often terrified and screaming when they'd appeared out of thin air next to him.

Marjorine didn't respond. There wasn't a hint of recognition in her face, not even a single twitch that would signify that she'd heard him. Instead, he felt her breath on his face. It was such a soft, fleeting feeling, so small but so incredibly significant. Breathing. Breath. She was alive.

There were rough hands on his side, and Butters was instantly aware that all of the restraints had been removed. Marjorine's eerily blank face left his field of vision when she was shoved away by Professor Chaos. Butters was relieved to see that he was angry, and not simply stoic. Although Professor Chaos almost always looked angry, it was still better than no emotion at all, even if he still continued to only stare at him.

"Please go away."

A hard(er) expression graced his face while he leaned over Butters. His eyes seemed to shake as he stared, and after a while of more silence, Professor Chaos suddenly hopped up onto the table. He crouched over him, swinging one leg over so that Butters was trapped underneath him. Marjorine had moved to the side of the table, resting her elbows against the cold metal. They stared at him. Staring, staring. The temperature seemed so much different.

"Why are you-" Butters' voice held bit of a panic.

"You can't tell us what to do."

His eyes widened.

From the other boy's lips, words had slipped through. Words, actual words, speaking to him in _his own voice._ But there was no stutter, no wavering of tone, as Professor Chaos spoke for the first time.

"There's not a choice to be made."

His wide eyes flicked over to Marjorine. Still, no stutter, and distinctly similar to his voice, but slightly higher and not as harsh as her male counterpart.

Butters looked at them both in renewed interest and fear. They had never spoken before, they had never addressed him, they had never made actual contact. Fear began to bubble up in his chest, churning his guts and making him sick. The room was so cold, his insides were frozen. It took all of his courage to summon his _own_ voice.

"_Who are you._" So soft, almost a whisper. He had no confidence. His confidence in human form replied.

"You're the host," said Professor Chaos, setting a hand down on his chest, "you're the original."

Butters' question was not answered, and he started before Marjorine cut him off.

"We don't mean to hurt you, that would hurt us as well. Symbiotic. Parasitic?" She leaned farther onto the table, reaching out to touch his upper arm. "People would not understand. Will not understand. Don't understand. No harm is intentional."

"No harm from us to you. To harm others who hurt you _will_ be intentional, though." There was an almost viscous edge to the other's voice. "That's why I'm here. I have to protect you, and to protect you to protect myself."

"This will not be forever. These doctors do not understand, but we will take care of them. Sanity is relative. Are you real?" Void of expression, she looked at him, her lips parted slightly in anticipation.

Butters did not understand. The mixture of reality and fantasy was blurring. Edges of lines that should never be crossed were being broken down inside his mind. It was too abstract, surreal. Nothing was right anymore, and they were touching him, holding onto him, anchoring him down into the hypnagogic world they had created. The water was cold and he was no longer certain that he could break the surface to breathe again.

"I'm real." He spoke with his eyes closed, unable to handle the reflected faces looking back at him.

"And so are we." The rough voice, the masculine voice, Professor Chaos. "We are real, we are you."

"You can't be me." Was that hysteria in his voice? "I'm me."

"Is your reflection you? When you look into a mirror, are you looking back?"

He did not answer, and he could feel them getting closer. The faint, telltale flutter of their breath against his face was proof enough.

"We are as real as you are, we are your reflections. We're here for _you_, to make up for everything that you _lack._" He wasn't positive, but was sure that the touch against his arm was Marjorine's breasts. "But we did not intend for_ this_ to happen; locked up like an animal. You are no animal, you are not a monster, they simply do not understand, and fear what they don't realize."

"We're sorry."

Hands on his chest and arms.

"We did not intend."

Breath against his face.

"We will fix everything."

There was something so intrinsically _wrong_ for them to kiss him, both at once. Their lips were cool and soft, respective to the owner of each. It was as if it was some kind of retribution for what had happened to him on their behalf as they kissed him. Hands on his face and bodies pressed close, they touched only him. Their attention was on him alone, smothering him with their mouths.

Kisses against his cheek were fleeting but gratuitous and abundant. His eyes remained closed throughout the ordeal, confused and frightened. Butters was tense, and stiffened harder when they moved to his lips. Professor Chaos kissed him softly, as he could tell from the way that Marjorine had her hands in his hair. It was filthy, disgusting, so incredibly strange, and he kissed back. Their lips pressed together, breaking apart briefly to resume kissing, beginning to mouth at each other.

Marjorine's lips moved to the corner of his mouth, still feeling slighted about how Professor Chaos had pushed her away earlier. Butters could hear him growl, and could feel a smirk against his face when the more aggressive doppelganger relinquished a portion of his control to her. They kissed him in unison, then, and his brain fogged and overheated, unable to cope with what was happening. It was too overwhelming as their tongues pressed against his lips for entrance. His limbs felt awkward and like lead when he admitted them to tongue at him.

So hot hot hot. Their tongues were both in his mouth at the same time, rubbing against his, dominating him completely. He gave no resistance and submitted without a fight. Butters trembled, unsure of himself as they pulled away and he gasped for breath. His chest heaved, and everything felt foggy.

"It was all in good intention," said Professor Chaos as he watched him recover, "and we didn't think you'd be affected like this. We are here to complete your life, not destroy it, yet because of us you have not yet experienced true human interaction."

In the frame of time between locking lips and breaking away, Marjorine had hopped up onto the table as well. Although the male was straddling him, she made her presence known just as well by maneuvering herself onto his chest.

"That was your first kiss. People stay away from you. They do not understand." Her voice was as calm as ever, yet for the first time that day, she hinted to something that could have been anger.

"I-I have friends." Butters said indignantly.

"But never someone who had loved you, never someone who has kissed you like we have, not a relationship like the one that you wish to have with Eri-"

"You don't know what I-I've done or not!" His hands immediately shot up to cover his face, humiliated at the name Professor Chaos had almost finished. Marjorine widened her eyes.

"Do you not understand? We are you. We know your every thought and feeling, and have experienced it as our own. There can be no lies with your Id and Ego."

Butters was quiet at this. He did not believe them, yet, he did not believe himself. He could no longer trust himself. Each of his thoughts were transmitted into them, parasitic. It was true that he had created them, that they had come from inside him. He, the original. It was himself, his own creations that were speaking to him. There was no longer reality. But that, too, was relative, because this was definitely happening. There was no way to deny that he could not feel their skin against his, their pulse as they touched him, and the rise and fall of all of their chests. His fantasy had become his reality.

He opened his eyes slowly, bringing his hands down away from his face. Professor Chaos and Marjorine looked back at him. They were predicting his actions, watching his expression, but would always have the one up on him when they shared his thoughts and predetermined actions. There was no way to escape from them, from himself. And even if he did, they would find him as always. They were his reflections.

"It would be good to relax."

They spoke in unison.

"We will make up for the opportunities that you have lost."

They spoke with his voice.

"There is no reason to be frightened."

The hands were against him, moving slowly as they lifted his clothes. He shuddered at the feeling of their cool skin. Feminine kisses again against his lips and masculine touches against his chest. Professor Chaos rubbed his hands up and down his sides, flattening his palms and smoothing out his fingers against his skin. He did not favor one part of his torso over another, and touched his upper body equally. Marjorine's hand joined his. They stroked him, leaning in to place kisses on his face.

He watched them, and their eyes stayed on his body alone, never moving to his face. They were intent on the task before him. His breath caught in his throat occasionally. Oddly, embarrassment didn't surface. Or perhaps it was not odd at all, as there was something deep inside him that knew that they were telling the truth; that they were him. It seemed almost natural and instinctual when they touched him, pulling up his shirt so that he wriggled out of it and they threw it aside.

Again the air was cold against his skin. The two compensated for the chill by immediately spreading their kisses to his chest. He could feel their flat tongues as they licked him, sucking at his collarbone and nipping his neck. Butters breathed heavily, feeling again awkward with his limbs. He clenched and unclenched his fist as they blew on his nipples.

It made his head hot, the fog being replaced by cement. No thoughts could filter into or out of his brain. Everything was simply a maelstrom of their bodies grinding against him and touching him. Butters turned his head to the side, moaning slightly as Professor Chaos sucked on his neck. Marjorine traced around his belly button, and dipped her finger into to the crevice slightly. He squirmed at this when she pressed harder.

And it felt so _good_ when Professor Chaos moved his leg in between his thighs, pressing against his erection. Butters panted and Marjorine giggled quietly. He wriggled, and his Id continued to rub against him while Marjorine fiddled with the button on his pants. She kissed him, moving her tongue again into his mouth, stifling his moans has her hand rested on his crotch. Vaguely, he could see that Professor Chaos had taken off the gloves he'd been wearing (he'd abandoned aluminum foil around the fifth grade).

They teased him. Their touches became light and fleeting. Again he moaned, furrowing his eyebrows. Butters bucked his hips up slightly against Professor Chaos's leg. He kissed him with fervor, pressing him back against the table at Butters' eagerness. Their tongues rubbed together, and Butters felt thoroughly submissive. There was a hand on his wrist (undoubtedly Marjorine's), and she moved it forward to cup her breasts. The eagerness rose as his entire world was dominated by sexual acts. There was a leg grinding against his hard on, a tongue in his mouth, and his hands were occupied with the weight of Marjorine's breasts. He could do little else but to try to remember to breathe.

Suddenly, though, it was gone. He hadn't noticed that he'd closed his eyes, but immediately opened them to see where the two had gone and why they weren't still touching him. His heart beat wildly when he saw them stripping down against the wall to his left.

Their clothes hit the floor without any sense of shame. Butters couldn't help but gazing unabashedly at them. It was eerie how similar yet different they looked to himself and each other. Even Marjorine, with her breasts and vagina, was a mirror image of himself in the same build. Professor Chaos was even more alike due to physical gender, but still, it might have been the way he carried himself, but there was a distinct difference.

They were all the same, they were all Leopold Stotch.

And in the same sense that they had no humility or modesty, they did not seem to hide their obvious lust. Standing side by side, Professor Chaos did not seem to mind Butters noticing his prominent erection, or Marjorine caring that he saw the wetness between her legs. They simply looked back at him. Staring. Staring.

After a while, they broke away their gazes, and turned to each other. They set their hands on each other's upper arms, and kissed softly at first. One kiss, and then a breath. A longer kiss, and the breaths seemed to become less important as they battled with each other for dominance. Professor Chaos hissed when his female counter part wrapped her hand around his penis, and began to pump him. He jerked his hips forward, turning just slightly so that Butters could see everything that was happening.

It was so lewd and perverse in nature. A part of him wanted to call out for them to stop, to quit _touching each other like that _in the bodies and faces that they stole from him. But he didn't, because he couldn't help but watching them preform those sexual things with each other. He had never seen anything like it, and had only stumbled across porn accidentally a couple times in the past. Not that he didn't _fantasize _about what was happening before him, but he didn't deliberately seek it out. Now, however, with it presented right in front of him with Professor Chaos grinding his teeth and thrusting into Marjorine's hand while she reached down to finger herself and their tongues locked in battle, he couldn't look away.

Eventually Marjorine halted the depraved movements of her hand. There must have been a silent link between them. They moved so fluidly and in synchronicity that they had to have been able to read minds. Marjorine leaned back against the wall, but kept her feet planted in place, and spread her legs slightly. Professor Chaos dropped down to his knees, and held onto her hips as he moved his mouth towards her pussy. Butters watched in fascination as his hatred began to eat out his repressed femininity.

She groaned when he began to suck her clit, one of his hands moving to finger her cunt. Her hips rolled, rhythmically moving to insure the most pleasure possible. And through it all, she stared at him. They both knew he was watching, and performed as such. She lowered her eyes and gripped tightly at Professor Chaos's hair as he licked her. Her thighs trembled slightly, and he could see that her masculine counterpart had begun to touch himself lightly.

"We want you to experience what your classmates have," said Marjorine, as she tucked a piece of her long blonde hair behind her ear.

"We want to make you feel good, we want to make it up to you," said Professor Chaos, as he pulled his face away to look back at him, his fingers still moving slightly in and out of Marjorine.

And Butters didn't object when they left each other in favor of him. They were on him again almost instantaneously, and he didn't know how much he missed the presence of their touches, as he moaned in ecstasy when they began to kiss him again. He didn't think much of it when his pants were removed and his underwear was flung onto Marjorine's dress on the pile of clothes. He moaned with renewed interest when Professor Chaos gripped his erection.

He could barely contain himself when they began to prepare him for what he'd knew would have become inevitable. It was too much to process, when Professor Chaos slipped a finger into him and Marjorine began to lick him. His head was full of heat. It didn't hurt when his more aggressive self added a second finger and began to make a scissoring motion, as his mind was too intent on the sensation of his feminine self's tongue wrapping around him. Butters thrust his hips forward, grinding down onto the fingers and deeper into Marjorine's mouth. He writhed on the table, panting, and feeling far too good for it to be real. Butters could feel Marjorine's breath as she exhaled through her nose onto his stomach.

How long it was before Professor Chaos decided it was enough, he didn't know, but whined when he felt his fingers leave. It had been a strange sensation, but not entirely unwelcome, and missed its presence. Marjorine pulled away with a slight '_pop_' noise, as well.

"We want to make you feel good."

"We're sorry."

Butters didn't object, but felt a certain sense of dread when Professor Chaos lifted his hips up slightly, and Marjorine crawled over and straddled his lap. He hadn't felt nervous before, but did when Professor Chaos began to pump himself again and Marjorine spread her thighs. Butters squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for what he'd only dreamed of before. But kisses rained down on him, and coaxed his eyes back open with wonderful touches that were so similar. He couldn't keep his eyes off of them, even with the fluttering in his chest and the way that his guts were churning.

The two doppelgangers kissed each other briefly, before Marjorine grabbed his penis to move it into position, and Professor Chaos gripped his hips harder. His heart beat fast, and he watched as Marjorine lowered herself down onto him. Her pussy was wet and hot and so ungodly pleasurable, making the pain of Professor Chaos entering him bearable. His erection was much larger than his fingers, and Butters clenched around him at the intrusion. They stilled for a while, letting Butters become comfortable underneath them.

Deliberately willing himself to calm, Butters took in a few deep breaths, and relaxed. He forced his muscles to untense, and he laid beneath them, submitting fully. Eventually they deemed him calm enough to move on, and they drew back and lifted their hips respectively.

Initially, Professor Chaos and Marjorine worked together, lifting and drawing out at the same time, giving him time to relax before thrusting back in and down. The pleasure then was powerful, feeling Professor Chaos's thick cock inside him, and Marjorine's tight cunt around him, both at the same time. Butters did little more than lay back with his arms across his forehead while they fucked him. He didn't know what to do, and doubted that he could do anything while they moved in such fluidness and skill.

The force of Professor Chaos's thrusts made his hair bounce slightly, and his hips jerk instinctively up into Marjorine. They moaned together, finding parallel pleasure in each other. The two worked in unison, driving him mad. Marjorine's pussy was wet and hot, and she clenched around him purposefully when Professor Chaos drew out of him, only to rock back forward and repeat the cycle. His heart thudded in his chest, his face hot as he stuttered nothing in particular and moaned.

Their bodies were so lewd, so vulgar and indecent as they fucked him. They sweated and cursed, Marjorine reaching behind to pull Professor Chaos forward and kiss him, and Professor Chaos reaching around to grope Marjorine's breasts. Her tits bounced with the force that Professor Chaos rocked into him with. He could see Professor Chaos's jaw clench when Butters spread his legs farther and Marjorine ground down against him. Everything about them was pornographic in nature, from Marjorine's expressions to something as simple as the curve of Professor Chaos's nose. Erotic and obscene, they took his breath away and any lingering thought of anything other than sex in his mind.

Eventually, their rhythm switched, and when Professor Chaos pumped into him, Marjorine lifted up. And when Marjorine sunk back onto him, Professor Chaos drew out. It was a continuous cycle of sex and movement, drowning him in lust and sweat. Butters could barely move, too overtaken by the force of their bodies and their shameless and taboo acts, all to please him. Him, him, him. They were all him, pleasing each other and kissing each other and touching each other and fucking each other. The buzz in his mind was interrupted only momentarily to again notice how similar their faces were.

There was a brief moment in which he could have sworn that it was _him_ and not Professor Chaos that was kissing Marjorine, who was _him_ and not a woman. Could it have been his hands that reached around to part Marjorine's lips and rub her clit while she bounced up and down on his erection? And was it him, Butters, that leaned forward and kissed himself while grinding his hips down against his own penis?

Nothing made sense, nothing mattered as the two continued to dominate him, kissing him and licking him and filling him and _fucking_ him. His lap began to hurt, his limbs feeling sore the longer it drew on, but didn't care one bit as their obscene acts drew on. Marjorine had leaned forward, almost laying on his chest as her hips did all the work when Butters thrust up to meet her. Following in her footsteps, Professor Chaos leaned forward as well, his chest pressed against her back, and their weight adding to the feeling of the itch inside of him being rubbed.

The pleasure that had been climbing since they had first touched him started to become unbearable. Butters gasped, and writhed, moving his head from side to side. The two on top of him realized that his orgasm was building, and their thrusts became more erratic. They were all panting and sweating, their bodies pressed against each other, and they moved to whisper in his ear while Butters cried out.

"We didn't mean to."

"We need you."

"We're nothing without you."

"We are you."

"We love you."

And when that itch inside him was finally sated, he wrapped his arms around both of them and came. His orgasm hit hard, making his thighs tremble and his toes clench. Butters could feel Marjorine tighten around him as his cum released inside her. Professor Chaos grunted as he clenched down and Marjorine moaned, and the two doppelgangers hit climax together. The whiteness and heat that surrounded him made him feel like he was going to suffocate. So lightheaded and filled with lust, nothing else mattered apart from the feeling of Professor Chaos in him, and Marjorine around him, kissing him.

It felt as if it lasted forever, their bodies intertwined and their breathing synchronized as they rode out the feeling of orgasm. But eventually, they calmed, and almost immediately, Butters slipped away into sleep. It wasn't a deep sleep, and he could feel movement around him, and lingering touches on his face. He seemed to sleep for so long, his body as heavy as lead, and his mind oddly clear and free of nightmares.

So heavy and light. Sleep was the length of an eternity, but the second he closed his eyes, they were open again, and people were around him in white lab coats, muttering and fussing, a sense of confusion in the air.

"How did he get the straps off?"

"He was heavily sedated! He was asleep when we left!"

Utter chaos surrounded him, and no one had even noticed that he had awoken. No one noticed, either, when a woman ran into the room and swung open the door, a tape in hand, before she yelled to get their attention.

"We've had a security breach."

Butters sat and watched as she wheeled a table with a small tv into the room. They watched in anticipation when she inserted the tape, and pressed play. The woman fast forwarded through the footage, pausing to show when everyone had entered the room, and then five minutes later, everyone had left. Not an extra person, or a missing person at all. But then, when she fast forwarded an hour later, Butters couldn't help but gasp as two blonde twins, male and female, left the room, smiled at the camera, and vanished.

* * *

**Review if you like selfcest mmmm.**


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